Trevor sat down in one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs places across from Shazam's desk in his office. The two were pretty good friends and knew each other well, Trevor having served under Shazam for quite a while; becoming Nazgul SC after only one mission under Jaden. Shazam had been moved out of the squadron to take over the academy, as well as his duties as Wing Commander. Trevor had received a message about a mission and to meet in Shazam's office as soon as possible.

"Good to see you again, Nazgul doin' alright?" Shazam asked as Trevor settled in to his chair. Trevor nodded, eyeing a pair of folders on Shazam's desk. One he could see would be their new mission, but he couldn't see anything on the other folder. "That's good. I understand that things and people have been moving around a bunch?"

"Yeah, it was hectic right after Jaden was moved, but I think I've gotten everything sorted out the way it should be. No XO yet though." Trevor replied, locking his fingers together across his stomach. He knew he needed to appoint someone XO or Shazam could and might do it for him, but he also knew he had a few days before the deadline.

"That's good, but and XO would be helpful. How about Darius?" Shazam asked. He's the obvious choice& Trevor though to himself. But I'm not sure how well he'd handle that. He's good with a flight, but I'm not sure how well he'd take the fact that he'd have to be in charge.

"Well, I've been considering him, but I figured I'd wait till the deadline to make any final decisions."

"Alright, that's fine with me." Shazam replied with a shrug. He then picked up the first folder and tossed it skillfully to Trevor, not a single page falling out of it. "This is your next mission. I personally don't like it, but it's important; to say the least."

Trevor raised an eyebrow at Shazam before looking at the title on the folder. Introduction Project was the title, and Trevor flipped the folder open to find himself staring at a TIE Interceptor, modified heavily.

"We'll be going out and test-flying some new fighters?" Trevor queried, studying the picture closer. He counted 8 laser cannons  one on each wing tip and two on the top and two on the bottom of the cockpit  as well as a pair of missile tubes connected to an enlarged ordinance bay. He also noted that the cockpit seemed to be slimmed down a little bit, now being more of an oval shape. It had been 'chopped', made shorter but still as wide.

"Well, that would be one way to put it&these are a new style of droid star fighter. They are cheaper than we could imagine, and that's because so many parts that aren't needed with a droid can be sold off to lessen the costs. This is one of 12 prototypes we had delivered." Shazam explained, pointing to the photo as Trevor listened. "As a matter of fact, you helped escort them."

"What, no. I helped escort a bunch of Sentinel-class shuttles. 12 of those wouldn't have fit in there." Trevor protested, his attention once more turning to the picture of the TIE.

"Just another way to help cut the costs of these fighters. They are shipped unassembled, and we put them together ourselves, like a model." He explained, holding up a model TIE on his desk as an example.

"Oh&so what will this mission involve? Trying to shoot them down?" Trevor asked, looking through the papers in the folder. There was a lot of spec sheets and information about the fighters themselves, but not a lot of mission information.

"To be honest, I'm not even sure myself. They're keeping this all really top secret and only the squadrons who help test will know anything. You guys will be test number 5, and you're being shipped off to Abrae to the testing facilities there." Shazam went on, now absent-mindedly playing with the TIE fighter, making it perform random maneuvers. Wonderful. More shuttle time. Trevor thought to himself angrily. He had only been shipped off the corvette two days ago, along with the rest of Nazgul. The corvettes then jumped to their destination, which he guessed was Abrae now that things were starting to come together. I don't think the squadron will like all this being shuttled around.

"Alright, so we are testing these fighters. You can't tell me much other then that, and I'll find out when we get to Abrae?" Trevor asked, just wanting to make sure he understood.

"Yep."

"Isn't the VE against using droid star fighters?" Trevor questioned again, a slight edge in his voice. For the most part he knew that droid star fighters were unintelligent and a challenge for a novice pilot at the most. They were confined to a set of maneuvers and rarely went outside that envelope. The fact that they could replace human pilots in the VEN - or at least a few of them - frustrated him.

"Yeah, they were, but the cheap cost and high quality and AI of these has all but changed their minds. Hence the field tests. If they can outperform live pilots, they may be used in life-saving situations. If not, we keep our jobs." Shazam said, his voice turning somber. Trevor could tell he wasn't to fond of the idea himself, and knew that Shazam had pilot in his blood. No pilot liked to see his job or the jobs of fellow flyboys lost to robots.

"And they expect this bullshit to fly?" Trevor asked again, feeling his face grow warm. It was not an "angry" tone, just one of disapproval and disappointment, mixed with a tiny bit of frustration.

"Apparently it does, an quite well at that. The previous four test squadrons all lost horribly. That's why I requested Nazgul go next." Shazam told him. He knew that Trevor questioned the decisions of the authority from time to time, and believed it was part of what could make him great as a commander. Shaz leaned forward over his desk and spoke quietly but hard to Trevor.

"I hate it as much as you do, alright. Blow the crap out of those flying rust buckets."

Trevor nodded in understanding. Shaz wanted to see the live pilots doing as well as they were, and didn't want to see a droid receive battle distinctions as much as Trevor did.

"Now, onto this next lovely brown folder on my desk." Shazam said, picking up the next folder and flipping it open then back closed. "I've got someone to add to your squadron. I believe you know her." He said, handing the folder across the desk to Trevor, who eagerly looked that the name on this one. He's kidding!

"No way&Are you serious?" Trevor asked, opening the folder and looking at the status slip on the front. It had a stamp under the 'Medical Status' box saying 'Acceptable to fly' in large bold letters. "I knew she was better but I didn't think she'd be back so soon." Trevor said, a look of pure shock on his face.

"Neither did I. Apparently she's been approved though, and requested Nazgul. She's here already actually, room 22B. I suggest you go talk to her right now." Shazam said, raising from his desk and striding around it.

"Meeting's over?" Trevor asked, standing himself and tucking the two folders under his arm.

"Meeting's over. If I may offer a suggestion though, I'd return her to her XO position." Shazam said, reaching out to shake Trevor's hand. As they shook hands Shazam added something more. "And that's a very strong suggestion."

Trevor laughed and nodded. "Alright, I'll consider it." Shazam lead him to the door and hit the access, the door sliding open. Trevor snapped a salute that was returned quickly and then turned and left the commanders officer, making his way towards the room he had been told to go to.

It didn't take him long to find it, and after looking at the folder one more time to make sure he wasn't being deceived, he knocked on the door. A voice from within the room called 'Just a minute!' and he could hear the rattle of dishes in the background. He was about to knock once more when he heard someone walking towards the door and then a beep as the 'open' button was pushed on the inside. The door slid open and Trevor found his eyes met by a pair of vibrant violet irises.

"If it isn't miss Jen Knight." Trevor said, eyes crossing the face he remembered slightly. It had been some time since she had left.

"Ah, Trev!" She said, giving him a quick hug and then stepping back. "How've you been?"

"Good, and yourself?"

"Comatose." Jen replied without missing a beat. Trevor could see her eyes were laughing but she managed to keep a fairly straight face.

"It's good you've kept your sense of humor. We were worried they'd remove that along with anything dangerous." Trevor laughed.

"Yeah, it is a good thing isn't it?" She said with a giggle, eyeing the folders under his arm. "Got some stuff?"

"Yeah, mission stuff and your file. I'm not supposed to let you see the second one, but my mind might be changed if you were to have any breakfast for me. I smell something delicious." Trevor replied, looking over her towards the dining area of the room. He could see a plate set on the table as well as a pan of something, and was beginning to wonder if he would be able to eat now or if he'd have to wait for later.

"Shaz has rubbed off on you, y'know that? Thinking with your stomach. Well, you might as well come in and have some, I made too much anyways." She said, stepping to the side and allowing him to enter. After he had made his way to the kitchen she set a plate on the table for him, as well as some utensils. Then she slid into her own chair and looked up at him.

"Now explain to me what's happened since I was gone." She said, shoveling a bunch of breakfast food onto his plate. He took a seat and set the folders down, then launched into an explanation of Nazgul's history since she left.

*** A While Later ***

"Wow, Aegis was dissolved and Jaden came back because of that, then he became SC after Shaz was moved...And then you became SC. Along with a bunch of fighting and the fact that pretty much everyone from when I was there has left, exceptions being you and Darius?" She asked, pushing food around on her plate with a fork.

"Yeah, basically. Toki may or may not be back. She might have needed a break, or her spot on the Doashim with Art could be permanent. I hope for the former though." Trevor replied, looking down at his food. He had been thinking about Tokijin almost constantly since she had left, and it had affected his flying slightly. Although he could pretty much clear his mind of her during combat, occasionally a small image would sneak in.

"Ah. So what is the next mission all about?" Jen asked, setting her fork down.

"Even Shaz couldn't tell me in person, we have to wait till we get there. This is about all we know so far. Take a look." Trevor said, sliding the Introduction Project folder across the table for Jen to examine.

OOC: All right, here is the starting post. What I'd like to see happen is nobody mention Jen or me yet. I'd like her to post first, and then we can get going, I'd think. Just go ahead and post about getting back from the corvettes, or whatever your character happens to be doing the morning this all happens. This wasn't a briefing post, just an introduction. The actual briefing will happen shortly.

 
-----------------------
SC/WO2/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

Clearly Canadian!

Delia nodded her head once, as she looked around her quarters...small, a bed along the back wall, a footlocker at one end, a locker and a roll away shelf--holding a pot of caf and several mugs--on the wall to her left, a workstation on the wall to her right .

Delia threw her duffel and pilot pack on top of the bed, before sitting down at the workstation, calling up the pilot handbook and the SAE...she'd already taken one, just for practice, since she had to have more rank and time in before she could take the exam for real.

She needed the practice, all that she could get.

What she actually needed was sleep, something she got barely enough of on the Red Cloud and hardly any at all on the Darkness, a loudly snoring roommate aboard the latter making that almost impossible.

That, and the fact she'd spent almost the entire time on board in the sims.

Delia got up, walking to the caf maker, taking one of the mugs and....

"...for frag's sake, Dee," Lelondi chided,"will you unplug yourself from that terminal, and go out with us?"

"You guys go ahead, Lee," Delia, deep into the history files she'd uploaded from the Vagnar'smain computer, replied, "I'm...."

...the datapad shattering into a million pieces after Father had flung it into the far wall, Father then advancing on the eleven-year old girl cowering in a heap on the floor, spitting on her.

"When will you get this nonsense out of your stupid, kriffing head?" he demanded, removing his belt from his trousers at the same time.

"How many times," he added, undoing his fly,"do I have to fragging remind you that...."

...she was gulping down air as if every breath was a thousand credits per molecule, the mug of black caf trembling in her hand, Delia holding on to the wall with her free hand, as the cold sweat just poured down her face.

Delia swallowing reflexively, blinking back her tears, as she walked back to her workstation, sitting down, resuming her studies.

No sleep.

Not for a while. 


 
-----------------------
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

[-=Phoenix Wing=-]

FM/SCRW Delia "Evil Clown" Cael/Nazgul 3-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)[SoA]

"So tell the judge I'm ready for the vases.
I'll dance in their faces when the guitar sounds.
Won't be long, I won't be gone.
Been leaning towards the shadows all along.

*** Before Valin's Post ***

After Jen had examined the folder she handed it back to Trevor, looking bewildered. She shook her head slowly and clasped her hands in front of her as she let out a sigh.

"So it's going to be like that?" She asked, looking up at Trevor who took a sip out of the glass she had given him earlier.

"I guess so. We leave in about 2 hours, so get packed and ready to go." Trevor said, taking the folders back and putting them under his arm again. He rose quietly and finished off what was left in the glass before setting it back down on the table carefully. He then nodded to Jen. "You're going to be flying as XO for this mission as Nazgul Two. I guess we'll call it a test mission to see how well you can handle the pressure after what you've been through. Don't let me down."

Jen was going to reply but Trevor had already turned and made his way out the door. He hadn't meant to be rude but he had things to do himself as well, and he only had two hours to get everything done. He still had a bit to finish up on the report from the last mission and he had to pack.

*** After Valin's post ***

Trevor settled back down in his chair and stared down at the finished report on his desk. It had taken him all of half an hour to finish it and now he was contemplating his current office furnishings. He wasn't technically allowed to do to many changes, but he imagined that a padded wooden chair would provide a much nicer atmosphere than the cold steel one in place already. Trevor was a fan of wood furniture, feeling it was 'warmer' than steel. He worked around steel all day, and it was just something he didn't want to have to spend more time with than he already did. Just as his mind began to wander towards a hand carved Kashyyyk forest-wood chair he had seen in a shop on Forman II, a knock was heard on his door for the second time that hour.

"C'mon in!" He called at the door, which slid open a moment later revealing an officer with a piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand. He strode over to Trevor's desk and set the slightly crumpled piece of paper down, saluted, and left the room. Trevor shrugged as the door closed behind the man and picked up the piece of paper.

Commander Evenson:
Your transport will be leaving in thirty minutes rather than an hour. Assemble your pilots and meet in Hanger B in time for lift off.

There was no signature on the note but it didn't bother Trevor. He had received a few of these little notes before and usually they were from the command tower in the hanger or from the shuttle pilot, so they didn't worry about signing it. He sighed and leaned back in his chair as he took out his datapad from the bottom desk drawer. He flipped it on and quickly forwarded the message to all the Nazgul pilots. After he was finished sending them, he left his office and rushed to his quarters to throw a few things in a duffle bag.

He grabbed a few clean shirts and pairs of pants and shoved them into the bag, along with everything else he'd need. He neatly folded the flight suit and laid it on top of all the other clothes, followed by pressing his helmet firmly into the bag and zipping it up. He looked down with a crooked grin at the bulging bag, wishing he could remember where his actual helmet bag had gotten to. He had a sneaking suspicion that it had been left on Dastoria, but it could have been possible he had just lost it in the mess he called a room.

He picked up the duffle bag and walked over to one corner of the room where an R5 unit sat, 'sleeping' peacefully. He gave it a sharp kick to one leg and it beeped loudly.

"Zap, watch over the room alright? I'll be back eventually, and no parties. I don't need someone spilling oil on the bed&again&" Trevor said, reminding the droid of the last time he had had a 'party'. Trevor still didn't understand where the droid had learned to party from, but it had been an interesting 'conversation' afterwards. The droid let out a disappointed beep and as Trevor turned to walk out the door, the droid made a loud raspberry noise at him. Trevor spun around and stared at the droid, which spun it's head so the robotic eye was facing the wall. "Wise choice my friend." Trevor told the droid as he gathered up his bed sheets and tossed them onto the droid, effectively trapping it for the next two hours.

He made his way to the hanger and was pleased to see all of Nazgul squadron milling about a Sentinel-Class shuttle that was set down in the center of the hanger. Most had already loaded their bags on board and were now just relaxing in the 'fresh' air of the hanger. It was a smell Trevor had always loved, the smell of fuel, grease, and a hundred other scents combined. He made his way over to the shuttle and gave a quick wave to those around as he tossed his bag up the ramp. He then stood at the base of the ramp and waved his arms to get everyone's attention.

"Alright everyone, we're just about ready to leave. I know you're all not totally sure of what is planned for this mission, aside from the fact that we are headed to Abrae. I don't know many details myself, and we'll be briefed when we arrive there. It's a three hour trip, so expect a bit more information while we fly." Trevor explained, jamming his hands into his pockets. He didn't necessarily consider himself a good public speaker, and having all eyes on him was making him nervous.

"Well, let's get aboard, and get buckled in." With that, he moved out of the way to allow the pilots to enter the shuttle, new faces and old alike. He was last on board and after a quick scan of the hanger for anyone who hadn't gotten on yet, and a quick headcount in the shuttle he raised the boarding ramp. After a quick chat with the pilots, he returned to the passenger bay and heard the engines roar to life. He dropped down into the seat next to Jen and buckled his seatbelt, then looked over at her.

"Ready?"

OOC: Alright, this is what I'd like to see happen for posts. You can post anything you want before boarding the shuttle, you can post about liftoff, heck, if you want to do the in-flight mini-briefing, go ahead and do that. All the information can be found in my first post, since that's all that Trevor knows at this point. If someone wants to even have us arrive at Abrae, that's great too. Be creative and have some fun with this. Good work so far, but I'd like to see a little bit more. Thank you.


-----------------------
SC/WO2/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

Clearly Canadian!

"Nazgul 12," said Valin out loud to himself. It wasn't exactly the spot he had expected to be placed in, but it was good enough for Valin's liking. It was also a good sign, his great great grandfather was one of the best Pilots in his family, and he to started off as 12. Unfortunately, his career was cut short due to an illness that he had picked up from a bar. His great great grandfather was  notorious for picking fights at random bars, and one day he picked the wrong fight with the wrong person, and ended up getting stabbed. It was no ordinary knife wound though, due to the fact that the knife had been dipped in some sort of poison that left you unable to walk. That ended his career making it rather short, but still worth while. Valin smiled at the thought of him, and new that he to would be watching his back when he was out in space.

Just then, a thought struck Valin's mind. Who was his Wingman? Pulling out his Data-Pad, Valin quickly opened up the message that had told him all the information about the Squadron, and also the squadron roster. Locating his flight, Valin saw that his Wingman was a man named Chak-Fel.

"Chak-Fel huh? I wonder if your any good at flying," said Valin casually to himself. Valin really did hope he was good at flying, because he didn't want to have a Wingman that wouldn't have his back, or a Wingman that couldn't keep up. He had learned in the Academy, that your Wingman is the most important tool you can have in combat. Not only a tool, but a friend, someone who cares about you and watches your back. Without one, you'd be almost useless on the battle field due to the fact that you can get double teamed.

Valin clicked Chak-Fel's name and just as he did, a little square box appeared on the blue screen saying "You have mail." Valin clicked the little pop-up, sending him from the roster menu to a message that had come from Trevor. The message read:

Commander Evenson:
Your Transport will be leaving in thirty minutes rather then an hour. Assemble your pilots and meet in Hanger B in time for lift off.

At the sight of this message, Valin quickly pocketed his Data-Pad, and began packing his belongings. They consisted of some clothes, his flight suit, his helmet, and a family picture that he always carried around with him. Valin looked at the picture before bagging it. A smile crept across his face as he saw his mother and father, both with huge grins on there faces. Valin was in between the couple, there arms embracing him, keeping there precious child close to them. He was about fifteen when he had taken that picture, and it was around the time when he had gotten to fly on an X-Wing for the first time in his life. Valin could feel his eyes begin to water, he knew his father would have been so proud of him. Even if he were a Pilot for the Imperials his father would not care, nor his mother. As long as they new he was making the right decision, then thats what counted in there eye's.

Valin wiped his eye's with the sleeve of his jacket, and then pocketed the picture. After packing everything, he set out to Hanger B.

Ten minutes and a couple of wrong turns later...

"Finally, I thought I would never get here," said Valin out loud as he walked into the massive Hanger Bay. Valin quickly scanned the Hanger area, looking for the Sentinel class shuttle that would be transporting him to Abrae. He finally spotted the transport near the far corner of the Hanger Bay, and began his walk over. He couldn't help but feel nervous, he wanted to make a good impression on his Squadron mates. His father had told him that First Impressions were everything, and that if everything went well, then you wouldn't have to worry about fixing mistakes.

As Valin approached the shuttle ramp, he was surprised to see that he was the first one on-board.

So far so good, Valin told himself as he took a seat nearest to the Pilots Cockpit, placing his duffel bag on his lap. As the minutes ticked by, more and more Pilots began to fill the transport, until it was eventually full. Valin spotted Trevor as he walked into the shuttle and took a seat. He looked slightly excited, and Valin could tell that he wanted to get this mission going already.

"This is Thartan Defelice speaking, your pilot for the ride down to Abrae. We have perfect conditions inside the atmosphere of the planet, and there shouldn't be a single bump on the way down. It should take around two and a half to three hours to reach the planets atmosphere, and other then that I have nothing to report. We have the thumbs up for lift off, so buckle up and get comfy," said the Pilot over the ship intercom with a smooth radio like voice.

A loud mechanic whirring noise started to come from the back of the ship, indicating that the ramp was being pulled up into place. The sound of repulsor lift coils could be heard as they lifted the ship off the dura-steel Hanger floor. The ship suddenly lurched forward indicating that the Pilot had kicked the thrust in to start there flight towards the Planet Abrae.

"Listen up everybody," said a voice from the back of the ship, turning out to be Trevor's. "From what I heard, and this is all there telling me; were being pitted against Droid Fighters. Apparently, no squadron in the VE has beaten them yet, and I expect were going to be the first. But that also means another thing; there not ordinary Droid Fighters. Expect them to fly like Skilled Pilots, not like regular Droid ships were used to seeing. I heard there revamped or something, so what ever they have in store  for us will be pretty tough,"

"So its not really a mission?" Said a woman with total seriousness. She didn't seem to be nice, and Valin would have to watch out for her.

"Well, technically, its not. Our lives aren't on stake, but our pride as a squadron is. Treat it like a real mission, and if we lose, treat it as if we lost our lives," said Trevor, looking at the woman with total seriousness, not a hint of a smile showing in his face. "Thats all they told me, we'll be given further information and orders when we get there. So for now, just sit back, and get as much rest as you can because this is going to be a tough one."
 
-----------------------
FM/CRW/Valin Dane/Nazgul 3-12/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

OOC: Clown, I have to admit I love the character trait of not seeming to like the authority. Even though it's a bit of a blow to the character, its fun to read is an interesting trait I'm yet to see.

BIC: Trevor had given his mini-briefing and was about to sit down is his seat when he was reminded of something. He had totally forgotten it before, mostly because in his rush to get ready on time he had almost not done it. He stood up and walked across the passenger bay and plugged his data pad into a socket on the wall. After a moment of searching he found the picture of the new TIE and the scan of the spec sheet. It took him another 30 seconds to get the projector warmed up and after killing the cabin lights he displayed the picture on the wall.

"This," He said with a wave of his hand." Is what we're going to be up against."

"Droid interceptors?" Someone asked, Trevor not quite catching the sound of the voice as familiar. Must be one of the new pilots.

"Yes, Interceptors." After making sure everyone had at least cast a glance at the odd looking cockpit and added cannons, he switched to the scan of the spec sheet. "This is all the specs for these fighters. I almost forgot I brought this with me, but it's a good thing I remembered. This could help us out a lot."

"It's atmospheric speed is almost 4 MGLT faster then what our Interceptors can hit." Jen pointed out with a raised eyebrow. "And...It says it has 10 cannons and an ordinance bay double of what we have."

"Yes, that it does. The cut down cockpit ball increased in-atmosphere aerodynamics, and the cannons and stuff is why they want to use it on the front lines. It'll be just as fast as us in space, but since we'll probably be doing atmospheric testing, be prepared for some surprises." Trevor explained, flipping back to the picture when he mentioned the cockpit. A bunch of the pilots had not noticed the first time, and there was one or two 'ooh's from the group after realizing the slimmed down shape.

"Should we expect them to have made any modifications to their design when we show up?" One of the new pilots asked. Delia, if my memory is right. She seems to study a lot. That'll be helpful. He thought to himself before figuring his answer.

"Well, I doubt it. This is their design, but not their handiwork. This was built by our wonderful warring friends on Dastoria. We helped bring these here safely." Trevor finished to a murmur in the group. The pilots who had been there for that battle were probably asking themselves if it had been worth it to lose pilots over something that was going to replace them.

"Well, what are we flying?" The new guy, Vilan, asked. Trevor scanned the group to see who all was looking thankful the question had been asked. A few were, but Delia looked annoyed with him. Trevor shrugged before he answered.

"Odds are, we'll be flying Interceptors. I had already kind of given that away earlier, but good question. Our goal will be to test these things and see if they are good enough to be a replacement for us. If they want a fair test, we'll be flying something at least on par with our opponents."

A set of nods followed, and Trevor noted a momentary hint of disappointment on Delia's face. Perhaps she figured we'd be flying something different. Or maybe she was pretty sure of it. Oh well.

"Any more questions?" Trevor asked, looking at the group. After a little while without an answer, he shrugged and disconnected his data pad while flipping off the projector. "One more thing, and then I'll shut up for the rest of the flight. A message Shazam gave me."

Darius and Jen peered at Trevor intently, while the rest of the pilots either didn't understand the significance of the former commander and the effect he had had on the squadron, or they didn't care too much. Trevor couldn't even be sure if they knew he was their wing commander or not.

"He told me to shoot these bastards out of the sky!" Trevor said loudly, a grin on his face the whole time. Deep down he knew he probably wouldn't even scratch the surface to being as good of a commander as Shazam, but he sure as hell planned to do his best, or die trying. Wow, that's a horrible phrase for me to be thinking, considering my profession. He thought to himself with an awkward smile as he returned to his seat.

*** After Arriving ***

Trevor walked down the exit ramp of the shuttle and planted his feet firmly on one of the grass landing pads of one of the Abrae complexes. It was night on the side of the planet they landed on, and he could hardly make out the image of a man standing not ten feet away from him. The man hurried into the light that was spread out by the shuttle's landing lights and grasped Trevor's hand firmly.

"We're glad you made the trip safely. We're also glad you'll be participating in our project. As you can see though, it's night out right now on our side of the planet, and I'm sure you'd like some rest, and certainly not a night mission." The man explained. He was wearing a white lab coat and Trevor could tell from the soft glow of the landing lights that the man was quite pale. Aside from that he didn't appear anything like your standard scientist. He was well built and had hard, chiseled looks. He could have passed for a military sergeant if it weren't for the surprisingly thick glasses perched on his nose.

"Yeah, rest would be nice. The squadron is still unloading, but if you'll just give us a moment, you can show us to our quarters." Trevor said as he shook the man's hand. "I'm Commander Evenson by the way."

"Oh, right, how rude of me. I'm a bit absent minded at times. Iving Vytuia, I'm head of research in droid systems at this complex." Iving said, nodding politely.

"So you're the guy working to take my job away?" Trevor shrugged.

"Technically speaking, yes. My goal is to keep pilots safe though, not replace them." Iving replied, adjusting one of the pens in his breast pocket. Before Trevor could reply though, Iving motioned behind Trevor to the group of pilots that had shown up. "I think we're ready to go." Trevor nodded and took a quick look behind him to make sure everyone was there and then followed Iving who had already turned to start walking away.

He led them into the facility and down a couple of different hallways before they finally reached a group barracks. It was as Spartan as Trevor would have expected, except it did not have bunk beads, and there was a set of three dividers around each bed that could be arranged to make a room.

"I hope this will do. We begin at 0600 tomorrow morning, so be at Field L by then. You'll be briefed and then we'll begin our tests." Iving told them, then nodded and left the room.

"Alright everyone, fight over your bunks and get some shuteye. We need to be rested if we plan to do well tomorrow." Trevor said and waved his hand towards the beds. He then flopped down on one of the beds and sat for a moment, considering what he should do. The thought to send Tokijin a reply to the message she had sent him earlier sneaked into his mind, and he quickly grabbed his data pad. He made a quick message about the current 'mission' and knew she'd be glad to hear he wouldn't be in a whole lot of real danger, unless he were to crash. She seemed to be doing lots on the Doashim and hoped that his messages would be a little bit of relief from the busy day.

A few moments after putting the data pad away and setting up his barricades, he changed into some sleeping clothes and slipped under the covers of the bed. It didn't take all of five minutes for him to be asleep.

OOC: Alright, here is my next idea for you guys . I'd like someone to get us out to Field L, and describe the area itself. Our squadron of TIEs will be sitting across from a full squadron of TIE droids, in a neat line resting on the wings. Don't get to eh point of the briefing though, I think that either Jen or myself should be the one to give that. If someone wants to give a briefing a try though, send me a pm and I'll see what I can do. Have fun, be creative. Perfect time to do a little Character Development before the actual flying.
 
-----------------------
SC/WO2/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

Clearly Canadian!

Damn Imperials... I can't believe I let her talk to me that way... Thought Valin as he hopped into his bunk, picking one at the far corner of the room. Just because he had joined them didn't necessarily mean he liked them. The only reason he had joined was to fly, and to punish the Rebels for what they did to his father. Valin would of loved to join an alliance of Pirates, but he couldn't lower himself to their standards. Pillaging ships and defenseless city's weren't his thing, and never would be.

Then again, the thought of joining some Renegade Pirate group did seem a little tempting every once and a while. Besides, the Empire had sacrificed an entire world to do what? Make a statement? It was preposterous. Not even a renegade group of Pirates would do that... Or would they?

Valin turned away from his squadron mates, or rather, the people he had been assigned to fly with. Damnit, why did that ever need to happen? Why did they have to accuse him of treason? I didn't deserve this... We didn't deserve this...

Valin could feel his eyes begin to water, he had so many emotions that were running around inside of him, and there was no way he could let them out. He wanted to get out and fly already, he wanted to leave the ground and go to the one place he felt at home. The one place that brought him happiness.

Grow up Valin, your 18! You're not a kid anymore. Mom isn't gonna comfort you when you cry, and these people sure as hell aren't either...

He quickly blinked the tears away and rolled over onto his back, bringing up the subject of why he had chosen the Empire. He then remembered, that this was the Vast Empire. It was one of the many factions that had come from the original Empire. That little thought comforted him, and Valin remembered that when he was signing up, this faction happened to oppose Thrawn.

Thrawns forces were the closest faction to the original Empire. So if the Vast Empire opposed Thrawn, maybe that meant this factions views and beliefs were different. I really do hope so... I don't want to murder innocents...

Valin turned onto his left side, letting his arm rest in between his body and the bed. He knew that it would soon fall asleep, but didn't really care. Valin let his eyes drift lazily around the room, examining the people that would be flying with him, trying to get a brief glimpse of what they were like. But Valin didn't get that brief glimpse he was hoping for, and instead, walked out of the room the Squadron had been assigned, and out into the darkness.

Flood lights could be seen from above, illuminating the surrounding area below in a bright white light. Warehouses surrounded Valin, only they weren't really warehouses at all. They were the housing quarters of pilots in training, just like the one Nazgul had been assigned to. Some officers could be seen milling about, doing what ever it was that they were told to do, and some of them were just out smoking a Cigarette, taking advantage of this rare opportunity for a break.

Valin turned to the right, and decided to go for a little night time stroll. Putting his hands in his pockets, he turned his head up towards the star lit sky. It was a beautiful night to go for a  walk, in fact it would have been even better if he had a girl to accompany him, but unfortunately, he would find no such thing. Valin sighed as he continued walking forward, letting his thoughts drift back to when he was a child.

He, his father, and his mother had been on many walks like this, usually when they wanted to put there minds at ease. It really did help, and it allowed them to spend some really good quality family time.

Approaching footsteps soon tore Valin's gaze away from the star lit sky. To his disappointment, it turned out to be the one now known as Delia. He did not like her, nor did he want to like her. She was rude, and she was the kind of person that loved to put people down. The kind of person that enjoyed tormenting people and enjoyed watching them get angry.

Those kind of people pissed Valin off. He wouldn't bother arguing with her though, she wasn't worth his time, and she would never admit to failure. As usual though, Valin couldn't help but let his gaze meet hers.

"So you still want me to remove those beady eyes of yours?" Delia asked, a hint of mockery in her voice.

Valin bunched his fists up into a tight ball. He wanted to hit her so bad, and it got to the point that he had to hold himself back from doing so. What he did wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do, but it helped a lot.

Valin turned away from Delia, and cocked his fist back. He aimlessly threw his punch into a warehouses Dura-steel wall, splitting his index fingers knuckle on contact. The pain was horrible, but Valin could handle it. He kept his fist planted firmly on the wall for a good three seconds, watching the blood slowly trickle down. He then turned around to face Delia, his chest heaving from anger, but when he whirled around, she wasn't there.

It turned out that she had left for the sleeping quarters and had not even stopped to see what Valin's reaction would be to her sly little comment. That pissed Valin off even more then before, and he took a little detour before going back to the Nazguls warehouse to calm down.

When he got there, his ears met the familiar sound of snoring and loud breathing. Valin figured he should also get some shut-eye, and that it was late, so he made his way over to his bunk, stripped into his boxers and  T-Shirt, and then tucked himself in.

At the testing area

Valin ignored the murmurs of astonishment from his fellow squadron mates as they sighted the droid ships, and instead made his way over to where their own fighters were stationed.

TIE Interceptors

Valin had begun to like the Interceptor more and more every time he flew it. It was way more agile then the X-Wing  he was used to flying, and made it seem almost sluggish. But that didn't mean the X-Wing wasn't his favorite ship. He had also begun to like the Eye Ball design of the TIE, but would never admit it if any of his friends asked.

Valin looked to his right to see Trevor already climbing the ladder that lead to the TIE's cockpit, and he quickly followed suit. Once inside, he shut the top hatch, and began the systems check. The sounds of high pitched beeps, and the familiar changing from red, yellow, to green took place. In a matter of seconds, his systems were all green, and he was good to go. Now all he had to do was wait for the order, and they would be off...

-----------------------
FM/SCRW/Valin Dane/Nazgul 3-12/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

Trevor slept with no problems at all, waking up a little bit earlier than everyone else from their short few hours of sleep. He had made his way to the refresher and back in time to see the others all beginning to get up. He made one final attempt to dry his hair off with the towel that hung limply around his shoulders, failing miserably. His hair never did co-operate with towels, it was too thick to want to dry out and instead hung loosely around his ears, still dripping. He nodded to those who looked up, and then tossed the towel onto the bed and zipped his flight suit all the way up from mid-chest to just below his neck.

"Everyone slept well I hope?" He asked happily, grabbing a pair of sunglasses and his helmet out of his flight bag. He didn't put the glasses on, but stuck them in one of the pockets of the flight suit. It defiantly wasn't the most stylish garment he owned, but up until lately the navy had refused to even consider a redesign. Recently more and more pilots had begun to complain about catching the baggy suit on corners or doors or even instrumentation inside the actual fight, causing the Navy to rethink the design.

No one really answered his question, but he did see that pretty much everyone had their suits on and looked ready to go. He shrugged and waved his hand towards the door, then turned and left the room, squadron in tow. It didn't take too long to get to the landing field; Trevor had scouted it out after his trip to the 'fresher. He was surprised to see Tomas parked on a crate ahead of them, and took a moment to quickly re-count the squadron over his shoulder.

"I'll be damned, you snuck away fairly well." Trevor laughed, slapping his hand down on Tomas' shoulder. Tomas chuckled for a moment and nodded a quick 'hello'. He looked up to see Trevor's eyes but was met by his reflection in a pair of black sunglasses. Trevor had slipped them on as they left the main facility. It was only 5:55 in the morning, but the sun was just rising and the group was standing and facing the rising yellow orb. Sun like this might not be fun to fly in. Trevor thought to himself as he looked around the skies. There wasn't a cloud in sight, and inwardly he let out a sigh of relief. They couldn't have asked for better conditions.

The squadron had dispersed a little bit, spreading around the fighters, both droid and piloted, examining every detail. To Trevor, the droid fighters looked twice as menacing in person. The chop to the cockpits was more extreme then shown in the pictures, and the wings had been bent even a little bit more inward than on a normal Interceptor. The ordinance bay on the bottom of the craft was translucent, and Trevor could see no projectiles resting within. The Interceptors they would be flying looked bulky and slow compared to the high speed lines of the droid fighter. Even Trevor had to shift his weight slightly nervously just looking at the machines. It's just a droid, they've always been called inferior to human pilots. These have apparently been proving that wrong though...Time to turn the tables.

After another two minutes of examining every line and visible surface of the droids, a small army of scientists showed up. Some where in white lab coats, others in dirty coveralls, and even more in simple street clothes, video cameras hoisted onto their shoulders. At the head of the precession was Iving, the man that had led them to their room before.

"Ah, Nazgul squadron," Iving greeted them cheerfully. "I trust you all slept well? We're sorry we couldn't have provided anything with more privacy, but all the current private quarters are reserved for visiting scientists who are going to be evaluating the results of your tests." He explained.

"That explains the cameras." Darius said coolly, nodding towards one of the camera men.

"Ah, yes. Those are for review purposes. Your TIEs have been outfitted with a camera just under the bottom of the cockpit, as have the IndyDros." Iving said, clasping his hands together and grinning like a fool.

"The whats?" Jen asked, quickly looking around for what he was talking about.

"The IndyDros. Independent Droids. We call them that because once activated, they go beyond their dependant programming. They learn from you, and share the data among themselves. You're going to go up against some of the best droid fighting machines in the galaxy." Iving explained, waving his hand at one of the Droid fighters and continuing to grin.

"Doesn't that make them dependant?" Tomas asked, putting some of the facts together in his head.

"In a way..." Iving said, his grin disappearing. It was replaced by a look of frustration, as if he was trying to teach a five year old the alphabet, but the child refused to even attempt to try. "It's just a name, the point is, you'll fight them. And they will learn from you, just like every other squadron."

"Ah. So how about giving us the briefing for this mock battle?" Trevor asked, quickly changing the subject before the intellectual tensions could escalate even higher.

"Right, your orders." Iving said. As he did so he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small handful of papers, handing each member of Nazgul one of the papers. "This is a basic copy of the rules we will be following. As you can see, they are quite simple. We want to test the craft in a low atmosphere environment, so you will not be flying any higher than 20,000 feet, or any lower than 500 feet. You have a twenty five kilometer flight radius. Your fighters are equipped with lasers only; the missiles have all been removed.

"Now for some of the more fun rules. You remain in combat until your shields reach 40%. Once you hit this barrier a tone will go off inside the fighter signaling that you can leave the battle and land here on the field. Once the tone goes off you will be marked as dead to all other radar, so keep below the 500 foot flight ceiling so avoid collisions. Upon landing you will have a few main wires removed to that you cannot re-join the battle if your team is losing. The droid fighters will have similar procedures.

"Now, my most important rule of them all. No one is to physically damage any of these fighters. Unless you suffer critical component failure and need to ditch the craft, you are to return them to this landing field. The droid fighters, if destroyed, will be placed on your bill, not ours." Iving said, finishing with a laugh.

"So shall we get in our fighters?" Trevor asked, looking over his rule sheet once more.

"Yes, you'll be given clearance to lift off in 15 minutes, and then you will have another 10 to disperse in whatever way you see fit, while the droids are prepped for launch." Another scientist piped up, stepping up next to Iving. "The control tower will tell you when you can go." He continued, pointing at a fairly tall tower, not 300 meters off to Trevor's right.

"Alright, you heard him ladies and gentlemen. Let's go!" Trevor said loudly as he rushed to the fighter closest to him, the rest of the squadron getting into their respective fighter. Each had a number, and as Trevor climbed the ladder he realized that three fighters down from his was a craft numbered '4'. He waved one of the nearest techs over to him and hopped back down the ladder.

"Who's Nazgul 4? Was I uninformed of a squadron acquisition?" He demanded, pushing a finger into the tech's chest.

"I suppose so, that's Azpeth Piett's. He's brand new it says here." The tech replied with a palms up gesture, and then showed Trevor a page on his clipboard.

"I see. Thank you." Trevor replied quietly, climbing back up the ladder then kicking at it with his foot as he got to the top, signifying to the techs below that he was ready for it to be removed. He dropped his helmet into the cockpit and slid down into the seat, quickly running through his pre-flight check, not paying any attention to the background chatter over the comm. After he finished he made sure his flight suit was done up properly and slipped the safety harness on, followed by his helmet then gloves. It only took him a few moments to get everything ready.

"This is tower to Nazgul one. You are clear for liftoff. Repeat, you are clear for liftoff." The tower commander announced to the squadron. "Go when you are ready."

"Copy that Tower." Trevor said before cutting the comm. back to the private channel. "Alright Nazgul, everyone ready to kick some droid ass? Don't let the Nazgul name down now! Roll call!" Trevor said loudly, beginning to get excited. He could feel butterflies flapping madly in his stomach, but he considered it good luck.

*** Barracks XG, Section N, Research Compound ***

A group of twelve men were seated in a barracks room, each with a glowing monitor in front of him. Three men were standing in the center of the room, occasionally checking over the shoulder of one of the other men. The doors and windows of the room had been closed and locked, sealing it effectively.

"This is them?" One of the three men in the center asked, pointing to one of the displays. "This is Nazgul?"

"One and the same. This is the group that disrupted our raid a while ago. Bosws wasn't too happy with that." The second man said, running a hand through short cropped red hair. He readjusted his glasses and flopped onto one of the unused bunks as he dabbed a handkerchief onto his sweating forehead. "I shouldn't be here; I'm a programmer, not a military man."

"Quite James. You were the one who designed these droid brains; you are the one who can hack into them. We need you. Dastoria needs you." The third man said firmly. He was taller and well built, dressed in a light tan suit that one would not expect to see the second in command of a civil war movement to be wearing. The man was Marcy Dokken, the military leader of one of the factions in the Dastoria conflict.

The first man nodded. "It's true. Without you we couldn't have accessed the droids. And with any luck we can call revenge a computing error." He said, letting out a laugh as if it was an every day thing.

"Well, you're not through yet. A built in safety control on the fighters prevents manual over ride from being activated until after 10 minutes of flight time. With any luck they will be done before that." James explained, standing again and stepping behind one of the computers. The setup was more than just a single monitor, but consisted of a joystick and pedals, and a few other minor things.

"I see. You better hope it doesn't last that long, for your sake James." Marcy said, grabbing James by the collar. "You better damn well hope it works."

OOC: Alright, I've got some of the background stuff in here as well. Don't worry about it to much for now, just worry about getting us into the air. It's fairly wide open from here. have fun everybody.
 
-----------------------
SC/WO2/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

Clearly Canadian!

Her hair was standing on end throughout the entire briefing, the words an idiot's array isn't always the winning hand repeating themselves like a one-note song in her head.

She glanced at the one called Darius, as arrogant as the rest of his subhuman kind...respect her superiors or else, a cliche from a bad HoloNet thriller, much like Darius himself.

A superior would've blasted a hole in my head, instead of just talking about it, she thought, still listening to the head scientist go over the ground rules...both sides weapons hot, minus missiles, no physical damage to the droid fighters, dead if shields go below 40%, Delia taking all that in, nodding her head from time to time to show she was paying attention.

Finally, Trevor said a few words, before dismissing the pilots to their craft, Delia clambering over the top of hers, dropping into the cockpit, belting herself in, checking over every little thing twice.

Memories of the last time she'd taken off from Field L flooding through her mind.

"Nazgul Ten checking in," she said over comms, after the tower had given them clearance and the twelve Interceptors had ascended into the unseasonably clear skies of Abrae. "All systems go, master arm switch," she flipped it on and off one more time to make sure,"is now hot."

The TIEs went into a loose goose formation, Darius' Interceptor briefly drifting into her sights...it would look like one of those unfortunate weapons check malfunctions one heard so much about....

Nah, she chided herself, hair still standing on end, eyes watching front and rear scanners as well as the view outside her forward windscreen...ten minutes, Iving had said, but, that wasn't any gurantee--

Her radar lit off on twelve contacts coming straight out of the sun at maximum burn, the bogeys moving around one another as they maintained three perfect ladder formations above the Nazguls.

None of them squawking any IFF signal.

"Nazgul Lead, this is Ten," she said over comms,"I have twelve bandits, repeat, bandits, coming at us at three o'clock high, closing rapidly."

She formed up on Tomas, Eleven and Twelve forming up on them, all four Interceptors changing attitude and altitude at random to minimize the chances of acquisition by the enemy.

She rammed her fighter to the firewall, the others doing the same, dramatically increasing the closure rate between themselves and the incoming hostiles.

They learn from us, Delia thought, remembering Iving's briefing, her Interceptor's dedicated energy receptor picking up comm traffic from the ground to the droids and vice versa at the same time six of the enemy broke formation, bulleting straight up in an Immelman.

"They're trying to get the drop on us," Tomas, like he'd been doing this for years, said over comms. "Look alive, people."

"Nazgul Seven, Nazgul Eight and Flight Three," Trevor then said, Tomas' flight already turning round  and climbing to intercept the six droids to their rear in mid-loop,"turn and engage those fighters on our six."

Delia squeezing off two laser volleys in quick succession at the top of a droid fighter's shields, glancing at her DER at the same time, the droid viffing, pitching its nose up to bring its lasers to bear.

Delia waiting until the opposing fighter had fired all ten cannon to drift slightly out of its line---though not so slightly as to find herself in someone else's gunsights--manipulating the ion stream so as to approach the droid from about a thirty-degree angle.

Delia then drove two more laser volleys into its shields, the dedicated energy receptor showing the droid's shields were now at 62%.

The droid fighter turned to bring its lasers to bear on her, Delia viffing again to throw off its aim, the bastard viffing to stay with her, as it vectored another hailstorm of lasers straight for her.

Praying very, very hard, Delia switched her shields to double front and charged the offending droid.


JNinety-two percent, she thought to herself, monitoring her shield status at the same time she viffed up and just barely over the droid at the last instant, shifting her shields back to where they'd been--64%, kriff--viffing to point her guns at the droid's rear and letting fly with a volley after volley of lasers.

Those volleys knocked the kriffing thing's shields down to 52%, and it was still turning round to try and kill her, Delia continuing to hammer at it unmercifully for the few moments before its cannon would be brought to bear, before she viffed to its right, turning at a sharp angle at the same time, loosing another volley of laserfire.

That only grazed its wing--48%, versus 57% for me, not good, as it broke up and away, Delia looping sharply up as it executed a half roll in an attempt to drop down behind her, Delia dropping down behind it instead, drifting left when the droid drifted left.

Delia managed to squeeze off one good shot, bringing the droid's shields down to 42%, before her opponent executed a barrel roll, forcing her to overshoot and barrel roll herself.

Delia about to shift all her shield power to the rear, before she hesitated.

And that hesitation sparing her for at least a few moments longer, the droid TIE Immelmanning over her, bringing its guns to bear on what it thought would've been her unprotected front, Delia waiting for him to fire before drifting not quite out of the path of the incoming laser fire.

She swore as some of it rocked her forward shields--for kriff's sake, 54%--both fighters manipulating their ion streams to turn and face one another.

Both of them getting off shots at the same time, both of them evading at the same instant, staying with one another, again firing at the same time, Delia's forward shields taking more glancing blows.

Same with the droid.

Except it had hardly any shields to speak of, the droid disengaging with only 38% shields remaining, Delia turning sharply away from it, rejoining Tomas just as he dropped in behind the droid fighter he'd been engaging, the two of them bracketing it, their combined laser fire bringing the enemy machine's shields down to 60%.

Delia keeping an eye on her slowly regenerating shields, as the droid twisted out of weapons lock, Tomas and she matching the bandit move for move, continuing to drive laser bolts into his weakening rear shields.

((Edited twice for consistency with Trevor's storyline))


-----------------------
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

[-=Phoenix Wing=-]

FM/SCRW Delia "Evil Clown" Cael/Nazgul 3-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)[SoA]

"So tell the judge I'm ready for the vases.
I'll dance in their faces when the guitar sounds.
Won't be long, I won't be gone.
Been leaning towards the shadows all along.